Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Poland and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Tubeway Army to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Trash.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Ludus. All the underground hits.
All Anakelly tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mission of Burma record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The United States of America record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Yazoo,
Jeff Lynne,
Aswad,
Maleditus Sound,
Schoolly D,
Idris Muhammad,
Neu!,
Barry Ungar,
Erasure,
Brothers Johnson,
CMW,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Mummies,
Crime,
Al Stewart,
The Selecter,
Scan 7,
The Cure,
The Divine Comedy,
The Sound,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Black Sheep,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Tropical Tobacco,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Warren Ellis,
Bad Manners,
the Germs,
Talk Talk,
Agitation Free,
Scrapy,
B.T. Express,
Jeru the Damaja,
Eve St. Jones,
Amazonics,
The Index,
Lungfish,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Robert Görl,
Donald Byrd,
Moebius,
Robert Hood,
Monks,
Isaac Hayes,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Drexciya,
X-Ray Spex,
Brass Construction,
the Association,
Sällskapet,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Skatalites,
Sandy B,
Swans,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Jawbox,
Oneida,
Country Teasers,
Stiv Bators,
Flash Fearless,
Severed Heads,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
K-Klass, K-Klass, K-Klass, K-Klass.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.